Sunday, September 29, 2013

Weekly Mondo Round-Up: The Liberosis Edition

Liberosis? You might be thinking,
“excuse me, I've already been tested for that,” but no, it's not
a disease. Instead, it is a word that popped up on a site I follow
called The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. (After all, sorrow is
rampantly common in this world, so the one that is obscure is to be
contemplated and shared.) They list Liberosis as the following;

n. the desire to
care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life before you
reach the end zone, to stop glancing behind you every few steps,
afraid that someone will snatch it from you—rather to hold your
life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air,
with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands
of trusted friends, always in play.

This
definitely caught my eye. It's a desire I think deep down a lot of us
can empathize with. Not about the things that actually matter to us,
but on the fears that hold you back. I've heard people express wishes
like “I wish I could be an artist” or “I would love to write.”
My answer is usually “well then, do it!” Failure is something no
one wants to experience and even the biggest masochist in the world
doesn't always want to be told no. That said, a feeling that's darker
and more tinged with a melancholy punch is that special breed of
regret. The dreaded “What if?” variety. Rejection is that slap in
the face that stings initially but you will heal from it. Often, more
quickly than you think. But the “what if?” head trip is a
powerful, toxic beast that's not worth the stomach and heart ache.

Something
that has been filling me with liberosis of the most positive kind is
a semi-obscure and ultra-amazing blues-punk-rock band from the
mid-late 1980's called Da Willys. This band first appeared on my
radar thanks to an appearance on a series called Hard and Heavy.
While the series was as cheese ball as it sounds, there was one
episode where they were clearly trying to bridge the worlds of heavy
metal with the then burgeoning “alternative” movement. In
addition to a funny interview with an early incarnation of The
Lunachicks, plus Da Willys.

The
band were instantly awesome and not above taking the piss out of the
interviewer, including one of my favorite replies ever. When asked if
they do drugs, singer Lynne Von responds, “No. We can't afford
drugs.” Even better, the little tidbits of music you see them do
live is actually good. It's rough in the way that quality blues-rock
should be. The blues, before it became co-opted by bad butt-bar-rock
beer commercials and Eric Clapton, were a rough, raw and real form of
music. Between the scraplings we're given here and the tiny handful
of clips that have surfaced on YouTube, Da Willys really were the
real deal. Probably too real to ever make it to the mainstream, but
then again think about how many forgettable bands make it to the land
of milk and honey, all for naught? After all, which band would you
rather listen to; Glass Tiger or Da Willys?

Singer
Lynne Von is still active musically and has even Dj'ed a few events,
while drummer Peter Landau is now a working writer and mighty good
one at that. Guitarist Leon Ross passed away back in 1992 and the
titular Willy is now living in Pennsylvania. There's also a great Flickr gallery of band photos and fliers, featuring art by both
Landau and Von, often reminiscent of underground comic book artists
like R. Crumb.

File
under you can never tell what people are going to respond to, my
“Witchcraft 70” piece on Dangerous Minds has been doing
exceptional, especially for a piece on a decades old mondo film about
the “dark arts.” So big thanks to everyone who has been digging
it. I'm sure the horned one appreciates. it. There's more work on the
near horizon, including something old and something new.